Always and Forever
by vaetta
Summary: Their coats were weighed down with winters past, their minds stained with battles lost, and their hands bloody with relationships torn. On the worst nights, the ones when their souls felt too heavy for their skin, Denmark and Norway would hike up to the peak of ágæti bjarg and lie in the snow together, telling stories and counting stars until dawn.


Disclaimer: If I owned hetalia, DenNor would be hella canon by now.

* * *

Norway examined Denmark, taking in the tight coil of his shoulders and the slight crease between his brows. He was chewing on his lip, staring into the horizon with glazed eyes. The look was startlingly uncharacteristic on the ordinarily jubilant Dane.

"What." Norway bit out.

His sharp tone snapped Denmark back to focus, and he span round in confusion. "Huh?"

"You keep sighing."

"Oh. It's nothing," Denmark plastered a thin smile on his face. "I'm just thinking."

"Well, don't. It's annoying."

"Sorry."

After a pause, Denmark returned to his melancholy, and the two fell back into silence. Much to his chagrin, Norway felt a tug of guilt in his chest for dismissing his counterpart so coldly when there was clearly something bothering him. The feeling nagged at him until he eventually rolled his eyes in defeat. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are ya gunna tell me what's floatin' about in that thick head a' yours, or are ya just gunna keep sitting there like lookin' like someone threw yer axe in the river?"

Denmark offered him a lopsided grin. "Ya know me too well, Norge." He flopped backwards and stretched out his elbows, resting his head on his hands. His fur cloak pooled around him, the deep red a shocking contrast to the unblemished white of snow. "I just… do you ever get tired of being like us?"

Norway reluctantly lay down beside him. "Like what?"

"Ya know. Nations. Immortal."

"We're not immortal, we just live longer than others."

"We might as well be." Denmark sighed. "God, Nor, we've seen so much. We've won battles and we've lost 'em, seen little kids grow old n' die… I've slept in the snow and I've slept in a palace and I can't tell the difference anymore. It's like the world keeps spinnin' round n' round, but we're caught in the middle, not movin' at all."

Norway didn't respond. They lay in silence for a short while, minds buzzing, until Norway leaned over and flicked Denmark in the ear.

He yelped. "Wha' was that for?"

"Bein' stupid."

"You _told _me to tell ya what I was thinking."

"I didn't think you were gunna talk nonsense."

Denmark propped himself up on his elbows, a flicker of irritation brushing his features. "It's not nonsense. Don't try 'n tell me you've never had the same thoughts. We're older than the rocks we walk on."

Norway scoffed. "This is funny, comin' from the fool who behaves like an overgrown infant all the time."

"Better that than actin' like a tired old man."

"Is it?"

" 'course. If we let our years weigh us down, we'll be too heavy to get up in the mornin'. Best to just close our eyes and pretend we don't feel 'em passing."

"Then how're we ever supposed to become adults?"

"Don't ya get it, Norge? We don't. No-one ever does. Adulthood is just the word we use for when our free pass for screwin' up wears out. We're all still just kids, 'cept now we have responsibilities, and pressures, and people judge us for bein' curious."

Norway paused, slightly taken aback by the weight of Denmark's words.

"… If that's how ya feel, then what's with all your talk 'bout bein' older than the rocks?"

Denmark looked up, gaze locking with the Norwegian. His eyes were soaked in shadow. "Memories, Nor. I got so many they're startin' to blend together. Sometimes I just wanna slow down - or speed up, maybe, so that I can be spinnin' round with everyone else. I wanna be human."

His words cracked slightly at the end, voice tapering away into the coarse northern wind.

"Den…" Norway ventured, softly. He reached out his palm and cupped Denmark's chin, tilting it up so that they were eye-to-eye. "We _are_ human. Yeah, we live longer, but that doesn't make us any less real. Humanity isn't characterized by how many days we pass - it's about what we do with 'em. And being tired, feelin' old, that's all part of it. If you're hurtin', it tells ya you're alive, which means you got countless days ahead'ya to screw up, and regret, and feel things ya didn't think were possible. This," Norway lowered his hand from Denmark's face and flattened it against his chest, over his heart. "this is what makes you human. Don't forget that."

Denmark looked up at him, blue eyes watering. "Nor…"

Norway looked away, embarrassed. "Stop cryin', ya idiot."

" 'm not cryin." Denmark swiped at his eyes, hiding a shy smile.

With a snort, Norway lay back into the snow and gazed up at the night. The two lay in companionable silence for a while, hypnotized by the soft fluttering of the aurora.

"… Norge?"

The nation in question sighed. "What now."

"Promise me you'll never leave?"

"…"

"Promise me."

"Yer an idiot."

"Come on, Norge."

Norway turned his head upon the snow, so that he and Denmark faced each other. "You're stupid for havin' to ask. Always and forever, remember?"

Denmark's entire face lit up, and he reached out his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Right. Always and forever." The words tasted like wine on his tongue, thick with the promise of a friendship that would outlast the stars and outshine the moon.

They lay together, hand in hand, until the sun rose.

* * *

Well, that turned out surprisingly philosophical. I think this is the best story I've written yet - my old stuff makes me want to cringe, honestly.

Please drop me a comment, let me know what you think!

Come talk to me on tumblr, I'm denmark-is-my-dork.


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